


you'll live forever

by sunflowerwithfeelings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Admiration From Afar, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Artist!Steve, But also, M/M, Tony is his muse, Wow, its like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9667193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwithfeelings/pseuds/sunflowerwithfeelings
Summary: One more piece. Steve needed one more piece for his portfolio and one more piece to finish out his Studio Art class: his final project.





	

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY REDEMPTION, for myself at least. I wrote a fic involving this OTP but it was back when I was still developing my style and learning HOW to write a story and it just isn't that good in my opinion since I have grown as a writer. After slamming my head against a wall trying to figure out what the hell to write, I came up with it.

  
One more piece. Steve needed one more piece for his portfolio and one more piece to finish out his Studio Art class: his final project.

To say he was stumped would be an understatement. He'd squeezed most of his time and creativity into all of his other works, this last one seemed, pardon his french, damn near impossible. The only logical solution, he thought, was to draw inspiration from inspiration itself.

The campus library.

Packed with more determination and will to get shit done than any other place in the world, Steve thought his plan was solid. He sat down at a table, arguably one of the worst spots in the library, but there was no other spot to be had. Steve was aligned with an aisle in the Fiction section, a comical situation since his piece was to be as realistic as possible. His eyes scanned the room, settled on one of the shelves and started sketching pencil to paper.

However, nothing he could draw was he happy with. No line was right, no angle was correct, and it seemed as though his 2B pencil was against him.

Everything Steve drew was cheerful. Lots of lighting, lots of light colors, and lots of clean lines. Yet he wasn't _happy_ with it.

He felt his chest start to fill, something about today just wasn't right and Steve didn't really have all the time in the world to be hating his art style this late in the game. 12 o’clock turned into 4 o’clock, which turned to 7 o'clock.

The lighting of the library had dimmed since the sun wasn't there to illuminate the windows anymore. Instead, tiny lamps scattered on tables and around the shelves sufficed enough light so students reading wouldn't go blind.

That's when he saw him.

Hunched over the desk, a short, and ruggedly handsome, guy sat at a table within Steve’s lane of vision. He had books stacked around him, the eraser end of the pencil dangling from his parting lips. The mystery man ran his hand through his hair and partially massaged his scalp, Steve guessed from the overwork he looked like he was putting in. It was either the dramatic lighting or the empty page in Steve's sketch book, waiting to be drawn on, but looking at this guy might have been the best things Steve had ever done.

Steve immediately picked up his pencil and began a simple and stupid sketch, something unlike what he's previously done. The lines were messy and scattered, making his drawing look hectic. Steve liked it like that. However, he took his time because he hadn't lugged his art supplies to the library, knowing he wouldn't start his actual final that day.

After an hour or so of sitting there, Steve looked up and noticed the short brunet was no longer there. The lamp that lit up his work area was out and all the books he had were gone.

“Oh,” Steve murmured to himself. He quickly grabbed his bag and hoisted it over his shoulder, looking at the time and exiting the library.

He made plans to be there around the same time the next day.

-

Just as Steve had hoped, the mystery kid was back, but wasn't staying in one spot. Yes, Steve didn't expect Mr. Fidgety to stay like a statue the whole time but he would constantly change his seating position, get up and down from his desk, and let his eyes wonder, making Steve have to turn and look as unsuspicious as possible.

Not to mention his getting up and goings were very lengthy for retrieving books. It was almost like the guy was walking to the other side of the library and back again.

That's when Steve realized he was.

Upon his return, the brunet had a thick, green book opened to a page that his eyes scanned over. The cover was green and frayed around the edges, decorated with a lightbulb with greenery and a sky inside. The bold words “Electrical Engineering” laced themselves on the front.

‘Huh,’ Steve thought. ‘An engineering student…’

Funny yet ironic that this kid would sit himself in the Fiction section, as if that'd help him with electrical engineering. However, Steve wasn't one to judge and continued to outline and perfect the curve of his spine.

At one point when Steve looked up, the kid's face was blocked by a stack of books. An ‘are you kidding me’ expression washed over Steve as he slumped into his seat and tapped the pencil on his paper, waiting for them to magically move.

A grumbled noise came from over the wall of books and Steve realized the brunet was sleeping. He checked the clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly ten.

The library was still pretty active, even for the late hour, so Steve decided to do something about his problem. No one was watching him, right?

Steve walked over to the student, who was now drooling onto his paper. He bumped the chair with his legs as he passed by then shuffled into the next aisle of books as fast as he could.

Peering around the corner, Steve saw that the kid was still asleep.

‘Heavy sleeper,’ Steve thought to himself.

Slipping out of the aisle, Steve repeated his actions, just a little harder this time. As his leg hit (and noticeably moved) the chair, the brunet stirred in his nap, a sound escaping his mouth. Steve, afraid he'd actually woken him up, scurried back to his seat, almost knocking down a stack of books in the process. All this extra effort just got him agitated glances from the librarian and her assistant.

The sketch was coming along nicely but was almost finished and with this, Steve would need to transfer it onto a larger sheet. That being his actual final. As he erased a couple of lines, he wondered what the sneakiest way to get that paper into the library was.

After spending a while in thought, letting his brain draw whatever came to him, he looked back up and noticed his figure was gone. Steve checked the clock, 1:30. That hadn't been the lastest he's spent at the library but it definitely felt like it.

It was at this time that Steve felt thankful for afternoon classes.

-

Steve had managed to bring the paper for the final into the library, along with most of his drawing equipment, just fine. He had begun to set things up when he noticed the student he'd been drawing wasn't in his seat. Instead a pile of books lay stacked around.

His blue backpack, that always looked new, was slung on to one of the chairs posts. His pencils and pens were scattered across the table, just as they'd always been when Steve came to draw him, so he figured he was on a mission to retrieve another book.

Steve sat down and started to thumb through his sketch book when he felt someone grab the back of his chair.

“Hello.”

Steve immediately jumped in his chair, a heat wave washing over his entire face. His head whipped around to see the brunet kid who he had been drawing.

Why was he talking to him? Had he noticed him yesterday? Was he upset about the time before when Steve kicked his chair? These questions were all boiling inside of Steve, lodging themselves in the tip of his tongue.

Yet all he could manage was, “Hi.”

“Whatcha drawing?” He said, his voice sounding sweet and innocent. Steve had never heard him talk. Steve liked hearing him talk.

“I-uhh um, nothing much,” Steve said. He didn't know if the library could get any hotter than it was.

“Mmmm yes you are. I've seen you sketching for a couple days now and now you've brought your whole arsenal,” The brunet said, lifting his arms and gesticulating to the array of lead pencils and accessories Steve had.

“Well-it's nothing special. J-Just my final for the class.” He didn't mean to stutter.

“Your final? Huh, well, could I just take a peak?”

Steve swore he was being physically being torn in half in front of this kid. Half of Steve begged his hands to open his book and show the engineer what he'd done and maybe even get the brunet to properly model for him. He wanted to reveal what he'd been doing like a dramatic climax that would surely win him an Oscar. The other half wanted Steve to combust on spot and set fire to his sketch book and it's entire contents. Unfortunately, Steve wasn't able to transform into a human bomb so he chose the first option.

“Sure,” Steve squeaked quieter than he expected.

His hands fumbled around the table and grabbed a hold of the book. He could flip to a random doodle and claim that as what he's been doing, but by how this kid was acting, he was dead sure he knew what Steve was up to. He came across the page and opened the book, shoving it into the kids gaze and turning his face away. Steve didn't want to see the kids disappointed or disgusted expression that was guaranteed to come next.

“Wow, that's actually pretty good. I look a little grimmer than I normally do, but you caught me doing something I'm not very fond of!” the brunet said, laughing after.

Steve cracked a smile and put down the book. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean it's beautiful, truly. If you wanted to draw me I would of moved my shit though, probably would have caused you less stress.”

“Wa- How did you know about that?” Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

“Librarian told me.”

Of course.

“Well, if you wouldn't mind just sitting where you normally do, that'd be great.” Steve said, taking him up on an offer he assumed he made.

The kid walked back over to his table and lounged dramatically on the chair. “Want anything special from your muse?”

“N-No, just sitting normally is fine….”

“Tony. My name is Tony.”

“Sitting normally is fine, Tony…” Steve glanced at Tony then back at his sketch, erased a few lines and continued. “My name's Steve by the way.”

Tony hummed in delight at knowing his admirers name.

After some time of perfecting his drawing in his journal, Steve turned to the bigger paper. Fine, light construction lines were being made, a general outline of everything. Every so often he'd look up to Tony and their eyes could connect; Steve would be able to see almost every detail of Tony, even from that far away. He'd then just dart his eyes back to the paper and sigh in annoyance because lord knows Steve wasn't a patient artist.

Suddenly, Tony made an anxious and tired groaning noise and he stretched in his library chair. He looked at Steve as if trying to figure out exactly what he was drawing when. Steve's eyes flickered down as he noticed that when Tony stretched, his shirt would reveal a small strip of skin on his lower abdomen. He didn't make a fuss or drag the gaze on any longer than what he intended on, so he continued on with this lines.

“You gonna finish it soon?” Tony asked as he turned to look at the clock, popping the bones in his back as he did so.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Steve answered, unaware that they were yet again the only two people left in the library.

“Alright, well I suggest we get going.”

“Why?” Steve asked as he finally looked up and followed Tony's gaze to the wall. “Oh shoot, you're right. Yeah, you go ahead and go, I'll see you back here tomorrow?”

“I'll help you pick everything up-i'm not in a hurry.” Tony said smiling up at Steve.

-

Steve was actually pretty thankful now for the spot at the back of the library for three reasons.  
      A) The librarian had little to no idea that in Steve's bag, he had an array of oil paints that he fully planned on opening and using while being surrounded by books.  
      B) There was no one around to poke their nose in his business and ask what he was drawing.  
      C) Steve liked the partial alone time with Tony and he wasn't entirely sure why.

He just liked the company and witty remarks Tony made every now and then; they way he told stories to Steve as he drew was also a plus. Tony had finished his engineering exam, flying colors as Steve predicted, and Steve had till the end of the week to turn his final piece in.

Tony sat in his chair, basking in the libraries dim lamps when he looked over at Steve who was staring at his palette. He sighed and closed his eyes. Dipping his brush into what appeared to be black, he started haphazardly swiping his brush over the edges and more towards one side of the paper.

In the process of the painting, Steve's hands had become quite spotted with his colors, most still wet to the touch. Tony, however, didn't know this.

While Steve was busy concentrating on his piece, Tony slinked out of his chair as quietly as he could manage, and crept up and around the back of the busy painter. He didn't intend on scaring him because he didn't want to ruin the painting, he just wanted a look-see as to how it was coming along.

What Tony saw truly amazed him.

It was nothing like the sketch Steve had done, not in the slightest. Sure the picture was the same but the way the colors blended into each other, how nothing was clean or clear or absolutely defined. The dark and somber paints looked ready to grab and completely engulf Tony where he stood. He was blown away.

“Tony?” Steve asked. His head was leaning off to the side of the paper, scanning the spot where Tomy would normally sit.

Tony felt the air from his lungs leave but he knew he had to respond. The seconds of silence ticked by. “I'm right here.”

Steve was startled but didn't jump like the last time Tony had done this. Instead, his shoulder blades tensed then relaxed, his head didn't turn to meet Tony's but continued on with what he was doing.

“Steve...this is beautiful,” Tony gawked.

Steve stood up and walked back to where Tony was, to get a view of what Tony was seeing. He did admit that this wasn't the hardest to do, in fact it was very quite simple, but it looked stunning compared to what he's done up to this point. Steve always favored what he was recently doing, so there was a bias, but he was sure that this was his favorite.

“Thank you, really.”

He didn't know how it happened, but Tony felt his head turn to face Steve. His blond hair and pale skin was half illuminated by the lamps of the library, blue eyes appearing more like a cobalt than sky, which is what Tony could compare his eyes to.

Then the magical eyes Tony found himself admiring were looking back at him, pupils blown wide. The airspace around Tony smelled like pine trees and happiness all of a sudden. A gap between the two boys was closing, and at a surprisingly fast rate.

Just before their noses touched, Steve paused.

What was he doing?

“I-um,” Steve stuttered in a low and whisper toned voice.

Before he could stutter anymore, Tony closed the space between them, a soft crashing of lips on lips. The scent of pine trees and fresh rain filled Tony’s senses, the taste of Steve was warm and welcoming. A firm yet gentle had rested on Tony's face, a cold and wet spot lingered on the bottom of his jaw, which midway through the kiss, Tony realized was paint.

The boys hadn't realized just how much they liked being around each other. The late, winding ours spent with each other in a dimly lit library, both now fully relaxed since Steve's secret admiration was out. Tony truly was Steve's muse.

Steve pulled away and englufed a large amount of air, making a smile start to linger on Tony's face. Breathing was mandatory in human life, even when kissing Tony, but Steve had forgotten.

“Let's uh, let's go.” Steve whispered as his eyes flicked towards the glass doors of the library, now black because of the lack of sun.

“Let's,” Tony replied.

Gathering all of their things, the boys made sure to leave one of their hands empty, for it was to hold something more precious than art or knowledge. Their empty had was empty so they could hold each other.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [here](http://queersunflowers.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
